The Call of the Magi: Magan's Destiny
by Findecthelion
Summary: This is a Dragonlance continuation, of Palins son, Magan. This story can also be reqad from the account RayJay88, but it will be updated on this account.
1. Ch1

The Call of the Magi

Ch 1

The young mage collapsed weakly in the shadows of the dank hallway. His strength had been taxed to its limit from endless battle. He had fought attacking specters and death shades, legions of ghouls and demons dragged from other planes of existence. More than once, his defenses had been broken, and he felt agony tear through his body as an undead phantom sought his warm blood with claws colder than the Abyss. Struck by mace, cut by sword, even scorched by fire and lightning, his wounds grew in number and damage- but through it all, the young mage had endured. Exultation pulsed through his blood like fever. Never in his life had he been so powerful in the Magic, so close to its ecstasy.

As he lay, rivulets of sweat and blood dripped from his face and raven hair, forming a small puddle on the floor. His breath came in shallow gasps. He spoke, his voice rasping through the silence, the words flecked with blood, "I live!" The young mage's battered body convulsed as the words were followed by bloody retching. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to his knees, and, aided by his staff, he rose unsteadily to his feet. Using one hand to brace himself upon the wall, the mage slowly started down the dark hall. Darkness surrounded him, encompassed his path, hiding dangers as yet unfaced. The mage's broken lips twisted into a small smirk.

"I, Magan Majere, son of Palin Majere, and nephew of Raistlen Majere, will have passage" he demanded, praying feverently to Palidine and Solinari that whatever lurked in the shadows would hold off. Magan heard a whisper of sound in the dark, saw with growing terror that the darkness itself began to swirl like mist. He readied a defensive spell in his mind as he slowly raised his staff. "_Shirak_" he whispered almost inaudibly. The crystal that topped Magan's staff burst into brilliant light, forcing even him to avert his eyes. "Behold" he screamed"the staff of Magius" The darkness fled, and it bore with it a demon so hideous and repulsive that Magan's hand wavered as he held the staff aloft.

The brilliant light faded into a softer candesance as Magan wearily lowered the staff of Magius. He continued down the hall, absently caressing the staff as he had fallen in the habit the day he received it. The staff, which once belonged to his late uncle Raistlen, gleamed brightly, illuminating his path. He starred down the hall, warily studying the darkness at the end of the lights reach. He had briefly seen the chamber doors as the light had flared, before he was forced to turn away. He continued his slow pace to the hall's end. "There we go," he whispered softly, straining his eyes to see his destination. At the end of the hall there stood two tall, unadorned chamber doors, made of bronze. The doors stood slightly ajar, as though opened purposefully to admit him. Though the room looked magnificent, Magan suspected otherwise. He sensed a malicious presence; an eerie feeling perked his senses. He moved swiftly to the room's entrance. Before entering, Magan prepared a spell of shielding. He grimly calculated that if need be, he could cast this one spell, then maybe two others. Forcefully banishing his fears, Magan entered the chamber.

The light from the staff of Magius reached neither the ceiling or the walls of the immense chamber, and Magan suddenly felt vulnerable in such a large space. There would be no cover, no hiding. The air in the chamber was stifling, unnaturally warm. A breeze moved slowly through the room, though it was rank, hot, and smelled fetid. The flow of air stopped, the stink of the air hanging around Magan, making him gag. Another hot gust blew through the room, and Magan doubled over, the smell making him nauseous. The air ceased its flow, and Magan froze. This was no breeze, it was- Breath? Magan leapt backwards, raising the staff of Magius and calling for more light.

The staff itself seemed to recognize the presence of the beast lurking in the shadows, and bursting into a shining radiance, revealing the long, lithe body of a black dragon of Takhisis.

Magan marveled as the giant black dragon stood before him. Even in the brilliant light of the staff, the dragon seemed to mix with the remaining shadows, giving no clear estimate of its size. The black scales that coated the dragon like material darkness did not reflect the staff's light. Instead, it seemed to absorb the radiance, attempting to diminish its light.

"Welcome young one," came a deep and hideous voice. "You've come. Later than I would have expected, 'son of Palin Majere and the nephew of Raistlen Majere," the dragon mocked, throwing his words back into his teeth. Its eyes glared brightly with its lust for death.

"What treachery is this?" Magan cried, as he was suddenly filled with a fear he had never experienced before.

"Pathetic human, do you not know what you sense? Do you not know dragonfear" The dragon seemed to chew on the words, biting them out with deliberate ferocity. The dragon rose into the air with leisure, knowing that Magan could not stop her in his pathetic state. She began to suck in breath, preparing to bathe Magan in its powerful acid. _NO!_ Magan thought frantically, _I cannot die here!_ Magan's mind worked at a desperate speed as he stood, holding out his staff.

"_Akii esithin issani_-" a blue light flashed from the ends of Magan's fingertips"_isser ellines karii izzenen_" the light encircled the dragon, and ice began to form on the dragon, hampering its flight as its wings became coated in ice. The dragon writhed and dropped to the ground, unable to fly. Bellowing in agony and pain, thinking only to destroy this human that dared challenge its power, the dragon's head reared as it prepared its breath weapon. Magan saw its intent and redirected his efforts, sinking to his knees from the effort of maintaining the spell. Layers of ice formed around the dragon's head in seconds, and her toxic flare pooled in her mouth, eating away at her own flesh. The dragon flailed about as the acid burned her insides. In a last attempt to free herself from her pain as her reptilian body became sluggish from the cold, the dragon cast a powerful mirror spell around herself- trying to reflect the mage's deadly spell at himself.

Magan felt the dragon's power, and his exhausted mind shrank from it. His words faltered, and the spell wavered in its power. He felt a chill wind blowing about him, and fear seized him. Nausea swept through his body and his eyes were failing to focus on his target. Failure is death, the memory echoed through his mind. Magan lurched to his feet, unbalanced and shaking violently in the freezing cold. His vision wavered as he fought to remain conscious. Through the fog in his head, Magan saw the Staff of Magius glow with an unearthly incandescence. Warmth spread through his body, and he summoned his life's sustaining strength for one final spell. Magan's chanting rose above the wind, but the words were unfamiliar to him. Panic filled his mind as he tried to revert the spell to its original form. He was no longer in control, and the magic pulsed unchecked through his body. Magan screamed and lurched forward, but stumbled and fell. The power inside him was trying to escape, and he felt as if he was being ripped apart. Through the incredible pain, he felt his lips still moving, and heard his own voice chanting insanely. He spoke the final word of the spell. The awesome blast that ensued threw Magan to the chamber wall, and he fell to the floor unconscious.

Magan awoke in terror, struggling to rise, but fell back to the floor with a cry. His head throbbed, and he felt as if all his bones had been broken. Hearing voices, Magan carefully turned his head to find two mages standing a ways to his left. One was an elf, the other a human. The elf had long, black hair, streaked with grey, and seemed aged beyond his years. Magan already knew this man; this was his teacher, wearer of the red robes and the master of the tower of high sorcery at Wayreth. The other man was dressed in black robes. Magan had never seen him before.

"Ah," said the red robed mage. His voice held a certain familiar note, though Magan could not remember where he had heard it before. "Magan Majere, son of Palin Majere. You had come to the tower to take the test at a very young age, as did your father." He paused and glanced meaningfully to the black robed mage, "And you have passed. Passed with exceptional skill." Magan heard the words, but his mind could not concentrate enough to understand before he slipped back into unconsciousness.

Magan lay on the floor, his features arranged in a look of terror as he was tormented in his dreams. He stirred in his uneasy sleep, and searing pain lanced through his body as he moved, jerking him awake. A vision of a dragon drifted through his mind, though he didn't realize it for what it was through the haze of pain and fatigue. Tentatively, Magan attempted to move his arm, and he hissed in pain as he felt as if his body had just exploded into flame. Stars erupted into his field of vision, driving all thought from his mind as he felt the darkness swirling around him once again.

As the darkness enfolded him, Magan heard a voice, and saw the shadows being eaten away as a thick fog under the sun. The soft chanting seemed to be strangely choral, as though the speaker's lone voice was composed of many. Magan slipped into unconsciousness, the choral tone ringing softly in his ears.

Magan woke to the sound of running water, and the smell of fresh baked bread. He noted that he rested on something very soft and warm, not the cold hard chamber floor he had fought upon.  
"Ah" came a soft voice from near his left- the voice of a young woman, not at all what he had heard in the tower. "He awakens, Master." Magan turned his head quickly to catch sight of her as she swept from the room. Too late he remembered his terrible wounds, and sucked in his breath, bracing himself for the searing pain that was to come.

He felt nothing. Hesitantly, he clenched his fist. No pain. Magan slowly raised himself to a sitting position and drew a deep breath. He was marveling at his recovery when a man dressed in midnight-blue robes entered the room.

"You stare at your hands as if you've never seen them before" he remarked. His voice was cold, emotionless. He seated himself in a chair that faced the bed Magan sat upon.

"Well, I-..." Magan's voice dwindled as he studied the man before him. He could see plainly that the man's features had an almost pretty cast to them, though they were hidden in the deep shadows of his hood. He was not a large man, tall but wirey in frame. He pulled back his hood, revealing his almond shaped elven eyes and long black hair which became lost under his cloak. A single silver earring graced his left ear, which tapered to a gentle point. Magan was surprised to realize he was speaking with an elf.

"Sir" Magan started, unsure of the proper form of address for this elf that he had never seen before"How long have I been in your keeping" It was a safe question, Magan thought, though he burned to ask dozens more. The elf appeared amused by the question. He seemed to sense that Magan wished to know everything but what he just asked.

"You are not in the tower of high sorcery at Wayreth, and I am not a wizard of any of the three Orders" he said rather impassively, completely ignoring Magan's question. Magan couldn't comprehend what he had just heard. He sat, suspended in the shock of his mind at the sudden revelation. "Furthermore, you will not be allowed into any of the three." The words struck Magan like a blow.

"You" Magan leapt up from the bed"You lie" he hissed at the elf, backing away from him as though he had drawn a weapon. "I passed the test! I have lived! I slew a dragon for the sake of all the gods"

"Congratulations" the elf said, smoothly interrupting Magan's outrage with his emotionless tone. "But your efforts were wasted. No one had planned to accept your skills into their Order."

"But the test" Magan protested angrily.

"Test? Trap? Hopeless struggle against unending foes? Call it what you will" the elf's cold words brought Magan up short. "I am no stranger to treachery. I myself have arranged for the unpleasant demise of several of my enemies. They left you bleeding on that chamber floor to die, Magan." The elf paused, and he seemed to consider something before continuing. "Do you not remember, Magan" he asked, leaning closer. "They came to you. They stood over your broken body as it lay on the floor" his voice dropped to a low whisper. "And they left you there." The elf rose, standing taller than Magan, and moved toward him.

Magan took a faltering step backwards. "Keep away from me" he grated. The elf ignored him, and reached out with his hand, touching Magan's forehead. Magan flinched from the contact.

He was burning. A thousand memories flashed through his mind. The blur slowed, and he saw the chamber where he fought the dragon...

A voice cut through the darkness. "Ah, Magan Majere, son of Palin Majere. You had come to the tower to take the test at a very young age, as did your uncle, Raistlen Majere." Magan saw in the darkness two men standing over a figure crumpled on the floor. The speaker, a man dressed in red robes, turned his head to the man on his left as he spoke. The other said nothing, and the red robe continued. "And you have passed" he said softly, his eyes returning once again to the bloody red robed mage on the floor. "Passed with exceptional skill."

Magan saw well enough in the darkness to recognize who the figure on the floor was. It was himself. He recoiled from the sight of his own broken body, a bleeding wretch on the floor. He lifted his gaze to the men standing over his ruined body. They faced away from him, though he instantly knew the stance of the red robe to be his Idarolan's, his master. The black robe was unknown to him, but he could not move closer to gain a clear view.

"There was no need for this" Idarolan said after a long pause, his red robes softly ruffling as he shook his head. "He had not needed to suffer so."

"It was necessary" the other figure said harshly. "The balance must be maintained. We cannot allow our petty preferences to blind us to that."

"He wore the red robes, Relgar" Idarolan said remorsefully.

"As his uncle did before him" hissed the black robe called Relgar. "Tell me you did not sense his power! Tell me you did not also feel its source" Yes, it was cruel" he waved dismissively at the bleeding body that lay at his feet as if it were an insect"but this boy was not one of us, Idarolan" Relgar lowered his voice, a sudden sliver of fear coloring his tone. "He comes from a most interesting line, Idarolan. The blood of Raistlen Majere- the black robe who had power to challenge a god- is mixed with that of Palin Majere- the wizard who defeated Chaos"

Magan felt anger stirring in his blood. He had been lying there so close to death and his own master left him for the maggots?

Relgar turned back to face Magan's body on the floor. With a sudden cry he staggered back, a spell of warding on his lips. "His eyes" he cried. "See for yourself, red fool" Relgar hung back, treating Magan's broken body the same as he would a venomous snake. Idarolan peered intently into Magan's blank face, though from his position Magan could not gauge his reaction.

"I see nothing unusual" Idarolan said with a hint of confusion in his voice. "Just the... vacant stare of the dying." Relgar made an inarticulate noise as he swept forward once more.

"Are you blind, old one" he asked mockingly. "They held the shape an hourglass..." his voice trailed away as he leaned closer. In swift anger he raised his hand as though to smite Magan, a burning blaze of fire erupting in his uplifted palm. Bright light flashed, blinding Magan as he watched the strange scene, and he heard the angry voice of his master.

"You have already stolen his life from him" he said scathingly"would you now carry his body to your Dark Mistress in pieces" Magan's eyes had not adjusted from the sudden flare of light, but he heard movement as Relgar picked himself up from the floor. "I will have his body to be honored in proper fashion, Relgar" Idarolan continued coldly.

"I will make allowances for your grief over the loss of your apprentice, Idarolan" Relgar said in a strained voice. "I will await your presence at the tower." Magan heard the spidery language of magic and knew Relgar had gone.

"I am sorry, Magan" came the soft voice of his master.


	2. Ch2

Ch 2

Sorry? His master allowed for his murder and he said he was sorry? Magan's anger pulsed through his body in waves. He wanted to shout, demand an answer of his master, but he could not make a sound in this strange repetition of the past.

Magan began moving toward Idarolan, his body moving of its own accord. He felt his lips move, and a voice not his own came from his throat. "Idarolan, you seem to be forming a habit of killing off your students" spoke a cold voice, a slight elven accent coming out in his words. Magan immediately recognized the voice as that of the elf he had just been speaking with- finally realizing that he was reliving the elf's memory. Idarolan whirled to face him, his keen elven eyes searching Magan's face, trying to identify him.

"Who's there" Idarolan demanded. "Why have you come" He stepped toward Magan. Magan stopped moving.

"Do you not know" the voice asked, devoid of emotion. Magan's hands rose to his head and he pulled back his hood. "You always were blind for an elf, old one" he said.

"_Elphidel!_" the red robe hissed, flinching back. "You would show your face here" Idarolan's words were filled with venom.

"I have come for the boy" Elphidel said simply, as if explaining a basic fact to a mere child. Magan stalked toward his own motionless body on the ground, his movement once more uncontrolled. Before he could reach his destination, Idarolan imposed between them. "Move old man, you are in my way" Elphidel said impassively. He took a step to go around the elder elf, but once again Idarolan stood in his way.

"Keep away from him" Idarolan commanded as he held out his hands, preparing a spell. "You can not have him! Be gone" Idarolan's voice slipped into a chant, as he prepared a spell to incinerate Magan as he approached.

In a flurry movement, a dagger flashed forth from Magan's hand, imbedding itself into Idarolan's throat. Blood spurted from the wound, and Idarolan's eyes grew wide as his chanting gave way to a gurgling sigh. He fell heavily to the floor and lay still. Magan's blood ran cold as the impact of what he had just done reached his mind. He tried to reach out to his master, knowledge of his betrayal forgotten- but his movement brought him to where his own dying body lay.

As he reached out to touch the body, the world dissolved before his eyes as a mist under the high noon sun. Magan could see nothing but a black haze before him. The image of a dragon formed slowly from the darkness. The sight startled Magan, and though he knew it was not real, he reached out as if to touch the magnificent beast. His hand passed through the dragon's head, stirring the air and destroying the vision.

Light burst through the darkness, though it did not blind him, as though he had never been thrust into the blackened mist. He was no longer in the tower, but stood in front of the elf that had shown him the vision of the past. Elphidel. Elphidel lowered his hand from Magan's face, and began to turn away as if to leave.

"You," Magan's voice was little more than a whisper, "You killed him?" He stared at his hand, envisioning Elphidel's dagger once more in his hand.

"I had almost thought you would have been happy," Elphidel said, pausing at the doorway. "He did try to kill you, you know."

"My master would never try to kill me," Magan denied, even as he flexed the muscles that released his dagger bound to his forearm with an intricately designed leather thong. "Lies! You've shown me lies!" Magan yelled, and leapt forward, the dagger thudding to his hand as he went. Elphidel moved only his hand, placing his closed fist right in the knife's path- extending just one finger like he was pointing. Magan's dagger was jarred from his hand as he struck, and pain flew up his arm as if he had just attempted to stab a brick wall. He staggered back staring at Elphidel, his hand tingling from the impact of his blow, watching his dagger quiver on the floor.

"Don't do it again," the dark robed man said coldly, a trickle of blood running down his extended finger. "I didn't come there specifically for your benefit- you were just lucky. It would suit my purposes just fine to kill you now." Elphidel whirled and was gone. Magan swore violently after him- and made to follow.

"Excuse me," came the hesitant voice of a woman from outside the room- and Magan hung suspended in mid stride. "Are you…hungry?" she asked carefully as she entered. Magan noted that although he had heard her refer to the night blue robed Elphidel as 'master' when he first awoke, she herself wore robes as white as untouched snow. A curious pallid blindfold was wrapped around her eyes- as though she could not bear the light of day. Her bright red hair flowed like liquid crimson down around her shoulders, with short cut bangs hanging to her brow. She held a basket of bread seeming just removed from an oven. Magan choked on a rather crude retort to such a kind, simple question. His anger was not directed toward this girl, he reminded himself.

"Not at the moment," he said, though the smell of the fresh baked bread made his stomach beg to differ. "Might I ask your name?" he managed, driving away thoughts of both his anger and his hunger.

"Its Amberyl," she said more warmly as she moved closer toward him.

"Careful!" Magan cried as he leapt forward, swiping his dagger from under her falling foot with his own. "Have a care, woman! That could have hurt, you know," he said, quickly snatching up the blade.

"Well I couldn't see-" she started in a feeble explanation.

"Then uncover your eyes!" Magan lashed out in irritation spawned from his earlier rage. Amberyl stilled, and Magan's breath caught as he realized that she could not remove the cloth- not really. She was blind.

"What good does it do the lame to own a traveling cloak?" she asked bitterly, "Or the blind to look about?"

"I'm sorry," Magan said, cursing himself for his lack of self control, and sat down on the bedside. He pulled up his sleeve, trying to replace his dagger in its bindings with one hand. It slipped from his grasp. He swore, pulling his forearm back before the blade cut his wrist. Amberyl sighed and moved beside him, placing the basket of bread at the foot of the bed.

"Let me help." She held her hand out, waiting for him to hand over the dagger. Magan hesitated before he gave the blind girl his knife. It seemed odd to trust her to bind it to his arm with her eyes 'closed'. "Don't worry," she said. "I've done it once or twice for my master- although he doesn't seem to need my help- I _have_ only done it once or twice." Magan didn't find her words too reassuring, but if he survived the encounter he was sure he wouldn't feel so bad about his quick tongue. Carefully she felt the bindings, measuring them up before positioning the knife in place.

"You refer to the elf, Elphidel, as 'master'," Magan said as she worked. "Are you… also a magic-user?"

"No," Amberyl said, frowning in thought as she tied the leather strings. "I don't know why I call him master. I must have fallen in the habit sometime after he… found me." Amberyl opened her mouth to continue, but closed it just as quickly without making a sound. She rose, reaching for the bread basket behind her.

"Wait," Magan said, grasping for her hand. "Found you?" he prompted gently as he stood.

"Found me." Amberyl said with finality. "Same as he found you." For a moment he stood there, holding her wrist while looking into her delicate face. He released her abruptly, turning away.

"Found me?" he questioned bluntly to the windowless wall. "Or happened across me while searching for _my_ master?" Amberyl flinched.

"Magan, he saved your life."

"And he took the life of my master!" Magan yelled, filled with sudden anguish over Idarolan's death. "I'd switch places with him in a second," he said. "He didn't deserve to die. Not like that. He was a good man. Always there, if not always watching." Magan stood trembling, trying to gain control of himself. "And Elphidel murdered him. Stuck him with a knife, and tried to tell me he did it to _save_ me!"

"You are so thick, you know that? Is that really what you think?" Amberyl asked accusingly. Magan his head, dumbstruck by the question.

"Of_ course _that is what I think!" he snapped, quickly recovering, "I saw it with my two eyes!" He wondered of how Elphidel could bear the company of such an incompetent person. Then he remembered that she had no idea what had really happened in this room before Elphidel had left. "Your master, Elphidel, was in my chamber," Magan began, making a slashing gesture at the surrounding room as he spoke; letting his hand drop when he remembered that Amberyl couldn't see it. "And he showed me what happened after my test- through his own eyes." Magan paused momentarily, shuddering. "He told me that he had come for my master, though. Not me." Magan grunted. "He also made it clear that if I wanted to argue the point, he'd split me down the middle."

"Oh, dear," Amberyl sighed, seemingly unphased by Magan's angry tirade. "He seldom makes death threats, actually. Just what did you say to him?"

"Ah, well, I sort of tried to stab him," Magan said, feeling slightly sheepish.

"You did what?" Amberyl's voice rose several octaves. "You're lucky to be alive, you idiot! And _after_ he saved you from a conclave of murderous wizards-" she half yelled.

"I didn't ask for his help!" Magan interrupted, his temper flaring once more. "And my master would _never_ try to kill me!"

"Oh? Maybe Master should show you again, then. You seem to have forgotten what had transpired," Amberyl said in icy tones. She shifted her head to one side, as if listening intently to a soft noise. "And besides," she continued coolly, "He wishes to see you again, for some reason I could never fathom."

"Your master is a _liar_!" Magan hissed. "And if I never see his face again so long as he and I both live, it'll be too soon." Magan promptly fell onto his bed, nearly upsetting the basket of bread at its foot. "Wasn't your master calling?" he asked pointedly, trying to get rid of her. Amberyl opened her mouth; and- saying nothing- shut it with a frustrated noise.

"I will be leaving now," she announced, turning away from Magan.

"How it rends my heart," he said acidly. Amberyl stalked quickly away from him. Magan bounced up from the bed with a shout as he saw her heading quickly for the wall _beside_ the door. His warning was a little late. Amberyl jarred backwards, unbalanced, as she walked completely unprepared into the hard wood wall. Magan caught her before she hit the ground.

"Maybe the door would work better," he observed cynically.

"Shut up," she said abstractedly as he helped her rise. Her nose tingled, and she felt slightly unbalanced.

"The door is that way," Magan said, turning her to face the right direction.

"I know that!" she snapped. Magan let that pass. "I was just upset, that's all." Her face was flushed from embarrassment. Magan backed off.

"I don't suppose you want the bread?" he inquired in an offhand manner.

"Ah, yes, please," she mumbled shamefacedly, extending her hand for the basket.

"Never mind. I'll carry it," Magan offered with a small sigh. Amberyl accepted his subtle apology, smiling faintly.

"Magan," she started hesitantly as he moved towards the door, "may I have your hand?" He took her outstretched hand, and led her out the door.

"Now, where are we going?" he asked.

"Somewhere outside," Amberyl replied. "It's nice out today, and I plan on having a fine meal out there." At the word 'meal', Magan's hunger returned like fever.

"I really think I want to join you," he said, as he stared hungrily at the bread in his hands.

"I think that would be just fine," she said, detecting his hunger.

"What is there?" Magan asked eagerly. Amberyl paused, pulling him to a stop. Her brow furrowed in thought.

"Actually, you could have almost anything you want," she said. "Everything from greens to roasts."

"For lunch?" Magan exclaimed, unused to such a royal menu. "Even chicken? Or soup?"

"You could even have roast llama, if you really want," Amberyl said in an amused tone as she resumed her slow pace.

"Where do you get it all?" Magan inquired.

"I honestly don't know. But I do have to prepare it," she warned, "So I _would_ prefer if you _didn't_ choose roast llama."

"I really don't care right now, Amberyl," Magan said blandly. "I just need food."

"Oh? That hungry?" she asked with feigned surprise. "You weren't an hour ago."

"What?"

"You didn't want the bread I had with me and hour ago. The stuff you're holding in your hand," she added, as if he might have forgotten what bread was.

"No. I said I wasn't hungry- not that I didn't want any. There's a difference." Magan inhaled the scent of the loaves he carried, which- although no longer warm- smelled delicious. "Either way I lied," he admitted. Amberyl laughed lightly.

"Ok, here's where I turn left-" Amberyl motioned down off to her left side, to a door slightly ajar "-and you go strait. That way," Amberyl pointed unerringly down the hall at a wooden door on the far side. Magan gave her a quizzical look, regardless of the fact that she couldn't see it. He pointedly raised his hand- the one that was holding hers.

"And can you tell me why _I'm_ leading _you_ down these halls?" he asked, slightly put out. Amberyl didn't seem to understand the question. "'That way'? Amber, you're pointing down these halls at things far away that you can't see, and you have me leading you through doorways." Magan sighed. "I feel abused."

"Oh!" Amberyl exclaimed, catching on at last. "I actually was dizzy after I ran into the wall, Magan," she assured him.

"But you ran into that wall on purpose, didn't you?" Magan accused.

"Well- I-… I _was_ distracted and-" Amberyl stuttered by way of explanation.

"Come off it," Magan interrupted her. "I know you did it on purpose to get me to stop acting like an ass."

"Well…" Amberyl shrugged, smiling winsomely.

"So we're holding hands because…?" Magan left it hanging, somewhat embarrassed.

"Oh!" Amber snatched her hand away. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," she apologized nervously.

"It didn't bother me at all," Magan said, contradicting her quickly. They stood there for a moment in awkward silence. Magan cleared his throat. "I go through that door in front of us then?" he asked in as casual a manor as he could manage.

"Um," Amberyl seemed unsure, as if she had lost her bearing on direction. "Hang on," she said. She nodded after a moment's reflection. "Right. Through the darker one."

"Darker?"

"The darker door," she explained.

"I could see that," Magan said, faintly exasperated. "But how could _you_ see it?" It seemed that every time she turned around, Amberyl seemed to forget she was blind.

"Oh, Elphidel told me for some reason," Amberyl accounted. Magan twitched at the name. Amberyl appeared to have anticipated his response, and quickly continued. "For as long as I've lived here, Master has always described everything to me. If I ask him where the door is, he'll tell me where it is, how big it is, what color it is, whatever."

Amberyl sighed. "I could almost envision the entire manor. Even the painting somewhere over there-" she waved her hand around to her right, locating the picture quite accurately, "-is well known to me. A blue frame- wooden- encompassing a fairly beautiful portrait of Lady Listelle. She has long, blonde hair, and a pretty, dimpled smile. The dress she is wearing is a quite becoming shade of red, is it not?"

Magan could only stare in stunned amazement. "You've quiet a memory there," he managed. Amberyl smiled sadly, her lips trembling.

"But all I wish… is to see it." Her voice held a quiver in it. She suddenly turned and fled back down the hallway, weeping.

"Amberyl!" Magan leapt after her. If she ran into anything at this speed… Magan tried without success to catch her. Amberyl skidded into a door, flinging its latch wide open. She darted inside and slammed the door shut, bolting it. Magan gaped. This girl was blind? Damn she could run! He tried the door, but it didn't budge. Through the heavy wood Magan could hear the faint sound of sobbing. Frustrated, he called the Staff of Magius, summoning it to his hand. He placed the butt of the staff on the lock, and it clicked open.

"There was a reason she locked that door, you know," came the cold voice of the elf, Elphidel. Magan whirled to face him, unconsciously bringing the staff up in a defensive position. "Put away your staff, Magan. I've not come to kill you." He threw the words out so indifferently in his emotionless tone that Magan got the chilling idea that Elphidel often had to give people this assurance. With a flick of his finger, Elphidel bolted the door behind Magan.

"That was…strange," Magan observed casually, forcing himself to relax.

"There are other forms of magic besides your own," Elphidel said.

"I'd noticed." Magan compelled himself to be civil. He would give a chance to the man Amberyl respected before he truly judged him. "I had been planning on enjoying some lunch," he said. "But I see my company has fled me."

"You must be a truly loathsome fellow. Amberyl can stand anyone's company." Magan's eyebrows rose.

"Humor, Elphidel? You? Somehow you struck me as a cold sort of man."

"Don't try my patience," Elphidel said coldly, "If I didn't need you, I'd have killed you already. You are quite annoying."

Magan looked curiously at the elf, wondering what he meant with his words. Suddenly it came to him. Amberyl was right.


End file.
